Whine and Cheese

I meant to post this earlier this week when I heard of the news, but things got away from me. I read online that Canadian ginger daddy-bear actor Chris Wiggins had passed away at age 87.


John D. LeMay, Chris Wiggins, and Robey
from "Friday the 13th: The Series"

He's probably best known by most of us as Jack Marshak, the occult expert on "Friday the 13th: The Series" that aired back in the late 1980's. There was one episode where Wiggins was shirtless and the fur was plentiful. He was in his late-50's at the time, but still in great bearish shape.

I also saw him in the 1969 "The Best Damn Fiddler from Calabogie to Kaladar", which won him the Best Actor Canadian Film Award (the Canadian equivalent of an Oscar, now called a Genie award). The movie is pretty good, and also stars a young Margot Kidder in her first feature role. You can watch the full movie online on YouTube and on the National Film Board of Canada website:

http://www.nfb.ca/film/best_damn_fiddler_from_calabogie_to_kaladar/

I'd recently bought a book about Friday the 13th: The Series, which included behind-the-scenes commentary from the actors, but noticed that Wiggins was not included in the interviews. I guessed that his advanced age might have been the reason and I was right. Wiggins passed away on February 19, 2017, from complications from Alzheimer's disease.

Besides photographs, I don't have a lot in my house from my days as a kid. One of the things I have managed to keep is a small white, dingy teddy bear known in my childhood as "Littl'un," a hillbilly truncation of the name "Little One."

The teddy bear has a history. In late December 1973 or very early January 1974, the twin decided to get into the stuff under the sink and drank bleach (or Brasso, the story has been told both ways) and was taken to the hospital. The twin was in the hospital for several days, spending our first birthday there. This pic is Mom and the twin at the hospital. The little bear in the photo was a gift to him while he was there.

After he came home from the hospital, he seemed to have no interest in the bear. So Mom and Dad gave him to me, starting my life-long interest in bears, starting with the teddy variety then seguing into the more human version as an adult. Every year until I was 16, my mom got me a teddy bear for Christmas. I had quite a collection for the longest time, including a giant blue and white one called "76," named after a gas station where my dad bought him. It was about this time, the little white bear garnered his name "Little One."

After I left for college, my teddy bear collection was put away. After I graduated, I moved to Cincinnati then Kansas City. Mom and Dad moved out of our old house because of Dad's health and the house fell into a horrible state. On one of my trips home from Kansas City, I collected a few things of mine from the house, including Littl'un to make sure nothing happened to him and he's been in my custody ever since.

When I had that nasty bout with blood clots a few years back, my sister and twin came up to see me at the hospital. They stayed at my house overnight and noticed Littl'un resting on the bed in the spare bedroom. They couldn't believe that I still had him. I can't imagine why they'd think I'd NOT have him.

He's more off-white, than white. His paws are worn. He is missing an eye, most of the nose, etc., but it's how I remember him from my childhood. He's been drooled on, peed on, dragged outside and back. In reality, he's probably a toxic wasteland of baby germs. I'd throw him in the wash, but I don't think his body would hold up to the agitation. I've given him a thorough dousing with Lysol though.

He's a huge part of my history. It's strange how we imbue inanimate objects with so much of our lives. Like a kid, I worry about his comfort, which is why is sleeps on the spare bed and not on a shelf. I'm happy he's still here with me.


Littlun in His Natural Habitat

I took a break from working on some side art projects to watch a movie and this drawing came to mind. I wasn't watching "Showgirls," but something triggered the memory tonight of the original movie poster. I thought it could use a bit of modern bearish tweaking. Enjoy!

For all of the ups and downs that come in my daily life, I do enjoy it. I may bitch and moan, wish for 10 minutes more sleep in the morning, complain about traffic, etc., but they are just little things, often without any true meaning other than to lift the spirits or unload stress. Sometimes, however, you get a moment of clarity, about what is important in life, and it is not always brought by good news.

After a dinner and a movie tonight with friends, I came home to a letter from my Tennessee Colony, TX. A 411 chat buddy of mine lives there and I sent him my naughty Christmas card. According to the letter, he never got to see it.


My buddy Johnny
The letter was from Johnny's boss. She had gotten my address from the Christmas card. She informed me that Johnny was killed on November 27th in a four-wheeler accident. She was there when it happened. He was going down a steep hill, hit a hole, and went into a tumble. Johnny was knocked out and never woke up.

I met Johnny on 411. With his graying goatee, dark eyes, and broad shoulders, I was immediately attracted to him. We started chatting off and on and I discovered that besides being very handsome, there was a kind, decent guy there behind those beautiful eyes. We talked on the phone once and chatted whenever we saw each other online, usually with a casual flirt and what was going on in our lives. He was a fun-loving guy, enjoyed the outdoors and his four-wheeling and described himself as 45 years young.

I read the letter several times, it just didn't seem quite real at first. It feels so strange to mourn someone I never met. People say that chatting online is a sort of false socializing, that you don't get a true sense of person because of the illusion of a two-dimensional picture and some vague and short description that can be full of half-truths. The other part of that argument is that there are genuinely nice people just looking to chat and find a friend. I'm proud to say I know many who are the latter.

I regret never having met Johnny in person, giving him a hug and telling him how much I enjoyed his friendship. I feel for his family and friends in their time of loss. He was a sweet guy, he'll be missed.

Well, I finished my work yesterday, so I'll be spending the rest of the week working on my reports and doing some odds and ends (laundry, etc.). Everyone in town keeps telling me to go to Tall Ships, which is an international boat race where large sailing ships from around the world are congregating in Waterford. They say about 250,000 people or more will be there. I hate to say it, but it doesn't interest me in the least. Everyone here is so excited, but from what I've seen from the news, it just looks like a bunch of boats in the water. It's not like they are historical vessels or anything, so the appeal just isn't there. I may take a taxi and see some of the more local stuff.

( My trip to the hotel pool and lots of eye candy... )

Now I guess I need to see what I can get into. Today is the halfway point of the trip, so it's all downhill from here.